


Catastrophic

by azure_iolite



Series: Fire and Ice [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: AU, Angels, Archangels, Cat, Crack, Devil, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Kitty - Freeform, Light Angst, Lucifer Projecting, Lucifer and Michael are Twins, Protective Lucifer, Protectiveness, Therapy, dumb, ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azure_iolite/pseuds/azure_iolite
Summary: Lucifer is saddled with a cat. He reluctantly starts to like it. Fluffiness ensues....Not quite. This is not that kind of story.Let’s just say that Lucifer in no cat whisperer. And sometimes it’s unwise to identify with strays.This series was conceived before season 5. The Michael character in this series in an OC, and not canon compliant.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar/cat
Series: Fire and Ice [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628236
Comments: 71
Kudos: 185
Collections: Filii Hircus: WIP It Good





	1. Cat Schemes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a series, but it can be read as a stand alone story. All you need to know to follow the story is that Michael (Lucifer’s twin) is visiting for an undetermined length of time.
> 
> Also: Trixie knows... but who are we kidding? She’s known since the pilot.
> 
> This catastrophe is the combined brain child of mine and onlymostlydead. Special thanks to Miah_Arther for helping with brainstorming and Beta reading. And to my husband for suggesting the end. I didn’t mean to write this... I regret nothing.

It started, like so many things, with a murder investigation. The owner of a “cat sanctuary” - one Miss Karen Saltz - had been murdered at the tender young age of fifty-seven. She was found dead in her house, which was apparently also the “shelter,” if you could call it that, by a prospective new “cat mom” by the name of Lucy Richardson. Crazy cat lady jokes aside, Lucifer hated everything about the case, from the numerous feline pests who refused to leave him and his trousers alone, to the fact that their witness went by the same nickname Amenadiel gave him.

It wasn’t bad enough that he had let his twin talk him into living with one of those deplorable little hair infested, furniture ruining vermin? No! Thanks to this idiotic case, now he had to endure their presence while at work, too! At least Mîchael’s cat seemed to defy all logic by being... surprisingly tolerable. Atlas left him alone, and he left Atlas alone. These fur-ridden nuisances did not. It had gotten bad enough for him to resort to skipping out on the crime scene for a spell so he could stop by his penthouse and ditch his suit altogether, settling for the old Detective Douche outfit he had hanging neglected in the back of the closet.

“Bloody Hell.” He grumbled as a stripy cat rubbed at his ankles and mewed piteously. “Has no one fed these creatures?”

“Probably not.” Miss Lopez answered sympathetically, reaching down to stroke a fluffy black giant of a cat. “I bet there’s food in the cupboards. You should take care of that.”

“Me?” Lucifer jerked back as if he had been slapped, nearly tripping over a grey cat who had gotten underfoot. “Why me?” He balked as he caught himself by grabbing the kitchen counter.

“Because they like you!” She chirped with a wide open smile, before turning to head back into the living room where the body was. “And everyone else is busy.”

Grumbling, the Devil set to work feeding the animals and complaining the entire time about how they ought to be fine fending for themselves. It was when he set the dishes out that he met it for the first time.

It was, beyond a doubt, the ugliest cat he had ever seen. Long matted white fur, large round close-set, slightly crossed greenish eyes, overbite with off center lower canines jutting up so the left tooth poked into its squished, upturned nose... The animal stared at him, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was by it, before it suddenly seemed to forget his presence and moved to eat. The animal missed its mark, slamming its already smashed face onto the countertop, before making adjustments, and trying a second time. It inhaled its food in record time, getting bits of brown mush all over its face.

Lucifer stared in a kind of awe. It was so hideous it was hard not to.

When it started to heave, he heard the others talking about rehoming the cats, and he promptly made himself scarce.

***  
Two weeks later.  
***

Trixie looked at the cat carrier and smiled. “You’re going to the best home a cat could hope for. You’ll have a friend to play with, and knowing Lucifer, all the best food and toys money can buy.” She promised. The animal inside didn’t acknowledge her.

“I really don’t think this is gonna work, Monkey.” Her mom sighed. “Lucifer didn’t want _Atlas_ around, and that cat is essentially perfect. I doubt he’ll agree to taking _this_ one, even temporarily.”

“Oh, he will.” Trixie countered confidently.

Her mom glanced at her through the rearview mirror before making a left turn. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because no one else will take it.” She explained, glancing again at the carrier and it’s hilariously ugly occupant.

They had been surprisingly successful thus far with rehoming all of its brothers and sisters. This was the last one, but no one wanted an “ugly, dumb cat.” The Devil wasn’t like other people, though. He would understand. As they reached LUX, she asked her mom to let her out first while she went to park, which after a scrutinizing look, she conceded. Then the plotting preteen made her way with the carrier across the empty nightclub to the elevator, planning her speech as she went. When the doors slid open, she found him at the piano, playing a lively tune, which came to an abrupt stop when she announced herself.

Hi, Lucifer!” She held up the carrier, and he fell backward off the bench upon seeing it.

“No! Nonononono, you are NOT roping me into your cat schemes, Urchin. No!” He exclaimed jumping up and adjusting himself.

Trixie put on a sorrowful mask. “No one wants him. No one cares about him. He was abandoned by his family and now they’re gonna put him to sleep because he’s too ugly to be loved.” She explained, lowering the carrier as if the weight of her words, and not the physical weight was pulling it down.

The Devil furrowed his brow. “Put to sleep?”

“It’s what grownups say when they mean they’re gonna kill it.” She lamented.

“Just for being ugly?!” He seemed genuinely distressed.

Trixie opened the carrier and retrieved the cat, wrapping her arms around it. “I heard one person call it _beastly.”_ It clawed her shoulder as it clung to her, but she ignored the pain. “Mom said it can’t be helped. She said this is just what happens to animals when no one cares about them.”

It was at this point that the elevator dinged and her mom joined them. As she stepped out, her eyes darted between Trixie and Lucifer suspiciously for a moment before a hopeful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “So, what do you think, you wanna give this guy a second chance at life?” She asked, perfectly feeding into Trixie’s scheme without even knowing it.

Stepping closer, Lucifer crouched down to study the cat. “A second chance for the beast...” he mused.

 _“Please!”_ They both said as one, and the Devil’s resolve crumbled.

“Very well... but only until a proper home is found.” He relented.

***  
That Evening.  
***

It didn’t _do_ anything!

Well, nothing good, anyway. It scratched his leather couch, it shed all over his closet, it didn’t seem to understand the litter box, and it completely missed the food dish when he fed it. When it finally found the bowl, it devoured the food as if it were starving, then a few minutes later, it started to heave and the whole meal turned up again on his polished marble floor. And it yowled once. A single sound before it continued to stare, now with its tongue sticking out. And that was it.

Lucifer puzzled over the vexing creature as he sipped at his bourbon.

It was still staring at the wall from where it sat next to the cat bed he had purchased for it. He wondered if it knew what the bed was for. If people thought of it as a beast, perhaps it was unacquainted with such luxuries.

He took a sip. It scratched its neck and continued to stare.

Just then the ding of the elevator alerted him to an arrival, and glancing over he saw Atlas stalk into the Penthouse as if checking the perimeter for threats before Mîchael stepped out. Seemingly satisfied that the coast was clear, the animal relaxed. Atlas was a lanky, black and white, long haired creature, and according to every human who met him, he was considered to be remarkably handsome. He had that classic fine bone structure and slender nosed look reminiscent of Egyptian art, tall mostly black ears which were tipped with white tufts, and vibrant lime green eyes. The cat was clean, groomed, well mannered, and trained. His brother had even gotten it to use the loo, dispensing with the need for a litter box entirely.

Lucifer wondered how long it would take to teach his charge how to be civilized.

“Miss Ella informed me of your rescue.” Mîchael stated, smiling as he approached. “That was very kind of you.”

Lucifer shrugged and took a sip. “Well I couldn’t very well leave the thing to be vilified and punished for simply existing, now could I?” Mī raised an eyebrow at him, parting his lips to say something, then his eyes landed on the cat and his mouth stuck.

Atlas was at its side, licking its head, welcoming it like the proper gentle-cat he was, while the new arrival just stared, tongue still out, and eyes gaping like saucers.

“Are you sure it’s a cat? Looks more like the gremlins in Miss Trixie’s art book.” Mī squinted his eyes and tentatively made his way over to inspect it more closely, seemingly intrigued by the thing.

“How _dare_ you!”

His brother turned toward him in alarm. Lucifer sighed, feeling a little sorry about his outburst. After all, he reacted the same way when he first saw it. But he wasn’t going to stand by and allow people - not even his twin - to talk ill of it. The creature had had plenty of that in its life already.

“He most assuredly _is_ a cat! And a regal one at that!”

Mī held up his hands in surrender. “If you insist, Sam. I meant no offense.”

Satisfied, Lucifer slid off the stool and came to stand at his brother’s side to watch the two felines get acquainted. “He is...” He stammered. “He _is_ regal... it’s just... his grace is well hidden.” He grumbled as he watched Atlas settle contentedly into the empty cat bed while the new arrival returned to staring at the wall. He wanted to find proof of his words. He knew it was true, but... try as he might, there was none to be found.

Lucifer exhaled in defeat. _“Well_ hidden.” He added with a huff. Mîchael started to chuckle.

“Yes, well... all creatures have merit. Some merits are just easier to find.” He agreed diplomatically. “Have you thought of a name yet?”

“No.” Lucifer admitted.

“How about Grimalkin?”

He knew his brother was trying to help, but that name was the worst. “Absolutely not! It - _he_ \- deserves a noble name, worthy of _his_ true value.” He countered. Mîchael raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t going to name it after a star, are you?”

Lucifer grinned. Not a bad idea. “Yes, Mī. I am. And not just any star. I’m the Star of the Morning. He shall be known as the Star of the Evening! I give you... _Hesperus!”_ He gestured dramatically at his newly named charge.

Mîchael started to giggle. “Really?”

Hesperus turned to look at them, and Lucifer took it as a sign of approval... but then he started the heave again. Lucifer groaned as a hairball emerged.

“Oooh, look, Sam! He made stardust for us!” Mîchael joked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bwahahahaha!!!😂
> 
> Torturing Luci with cats is too fun. 😈
> 
> This fic is finished. 5 chapters, I will post once a week. Hope you like so far.
> 
> P.S. Atlas: 😻


	2. Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer decides to make sure Hesperus gets help. Linda is not happy about it.

Linda was done.

She sighed as she stared at the paper in dismay. Why, oh why did Lucifer insist on doing these things? When she said she wasn’t an animal therapist, it wasn’t a request for him to ‘make’ her one. She looked again at the letter congratulating her for having completed all requirements and informing her that the official documents, including the certificates and license could be found online.

It seemed legit.

She was sure it was.

Linda exhaled again as she rubbed her temples. Two and a half weeks. Two and a half weeks, and six “sessions” and all he could talk about was that cat!

Session one:

Lucifer barged in as she was eating her salad. He flopped himself down on the couch and proceeded to monologue. “I’ve had it with that infernal feline! I try and I try, but it appreciates nothing I do for it... _Him._ It’s a him.” He huffed in frustration and ran his hand through his hair. “And he is driving me to drink!” To prove his point, he pulled the whiskey tin from his inner jacket pocket and chugged the contents. After wiping, he sighed. “See?” Then he flopped back. “Bloody Hell, I’ve no more whiskey.” Then he sat up again like a hyperactive child, before turning hopeful eyes on her. “You wouldn’t happen to have any hidden in your drawer per chance? A little extra something to help you cope with the crazies you deal with all day, perhaps?”

“I’m still pumping, Lucifer.”

Lucifer blinked owlishly at her.

“Breast milk. For Charlie?”

A startled expression crossed his face for a moment before he perked up. “Precisely my point! You’ve likely got tons of alcohol on hand to cope with having one of _those_ clingy little parasites attached to you.”

Linda took a calming breath. She chose to disregard the fact that he just called his nephew a parasite... and the fact that he clearly didn’t understand that nursing mothers weren’t supposed to drink... she just wanted him gone. So she could eat her lunch in peace.

“Um... I... I thought you and Atlas came to an ‘agreement,’ and...”

“Atlas?” He interrupted, but she pushed through, unwilling to be derailed by his incessant ranting.

“...that everything was fine now, but if this is really bothering you, maybe you could bring it up in your next...”

“Who said anything about Atlas?” Lucifer interrupted again. This time, Linda stopped, confusion derailing her.

She blinked. “Then who...”

“This is about _Hesperus!”_

Session two:

Lucifer opened the door in a near panic, already mid-sentence as he came in. “...be depressed or something. I need you to tell me what to do.”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Miller exclaimed from where she sat on the couch. “I’m in the middle of a session.”

Lucifer took her by the hand, pulling her up. “Correction: you _were_ in middle of a session, but it’s high time you stop thinking about yourself so much. Some of us have problems that actually matter.” As he spoke, he was ushering the woman from the room.

“What? How dare...” Linda’s flummoxed client stammered angrily.

“Bye bye! Adiós! Sayōnara!”

Linda shook her head. Mrs. Miller was new. She didn’t know about Lucifer yet. Leaning over to her computer, she accessed her email and sent out the standard “Sorry Lucifer barged in on you, here’s a refund and a gift certificate (curtesy of Lucifer)” that she had saved on her desktop.

“I never!” Her patient fumed as he pushed her out.

“Au revoir! Aντίο!” He closed the door on her face and turned to flash a nervous attempt at his usually charming smile her way briefly before he started pacing. And talking.

“I mean, I’ve been working with him for days now, and he still goes on the floor. According to all of the parenting website I’ve seen, depression can interfere with potty training...”

Session three:

Lucifer was laying on the couch, staring misty-eyed at the ceiling. “No one ever gave him a chance. Even his own family rejected him! How is he to come to terms with that kind of abandonment? One day he was a carefree kitten, and the next day, they’re calling him a _Beast,_ and kicking him to the curb.”

At least this was during an actual scheduled appointment.

“Are we still talking about Hesperus, here?” Linda prompted gently.

The Devil on her couch snorted wetly as he looked her way. “Of _course_ we are!” He rolled his eyes as he sat up. “Who did you _think_ we were discussing?”

Session four:

Linda nudged the door open with her hip, balancing her caffeine-free tea and her purse—extra full with her breast pump supplies—against her waist as she extracted the key and let herself in, ready to start her day. Still sleepy, she brought the hot beverage to her lips, and choked as she inhaled, jumping back in alarm when she was greeted by an awful yowling. Lucifer was at her desk with a laser pointer in hand, which he was swishing about for a...

It was simply the ugliest cat Linda had ever seen!

“Lucifer!” She exclaimed as soon as she was done coughing. He looked up to meet her gaze, and as the pointer caught her eye, she nearly spilled her tea. “What are you doing here!? It’s 7:30 in the morning!”

Lucifer furrowed his brow as he set the pointer on her desk. “Is it?”

Linda sighed as she came in and closed the door. “Why are you even awake, now?”

Lucifer shrugged as he extracted himself from her seat, long legs unfolding from what was likely an awkward angle. “I’ve not slept, yet. I brought Hesperus here for a session, but you were out, so we waited.” He yawned sleepily.

Linda turned to look at the cat, which had been placed on her couch. It stared with misaligned eyes at her desk and it’s claws dug into the cushion. The animal yawned, mirroring its devilish caregiver, and going more cross eyed as it did so, before laying down. Half its weight hung off the edge of the couch and as it slid down, it was like watching a disaster in slow motion. It slumped more and more, digging its claws in deeper and deeper until, finally, it tumbled head first onto the floor.

“Aren’t cats supposed to land on their feet?” Lucifer mused.

“Why did you bring Hesperus to my office!?” Linda finally demanded as she pulled her eyes away from the mind-bogglingly ugly creature.

“Group therapy, doctor.” Lucifer yawned again.

Linda opened and closed her mouth a few times as she struggled to decide which objection to make first.

Session five:

“No!” Linda snapped. “I am _not_ doing therapy for your cat!” She stood, tapping her foot and crossing her arms. “And you need to stop bringing him!” She was resolved to be firm about this.

“Why the bloody Hell not?” Lucifer pouted petulantly. “The poor sod clearly has problems, and I don’t trust him with anyone else!”

“The... what?” She blurted. The poor... whatever. Yeah, Linda had to agree. The cat _did_ have problems. It was unintelligent... dumb, stupid, idiotic, probably inbred and unhealthy, too. It needed combing, and Lucifer really ought to have been seeking help from a professional trainer. Instead, the silly celestial was projecting so hard she could run a power point off of him.

“Yes, he has issues! Volumes, even! He needs a gentle, guiding hand, and who better to help him than the doctor who cured the Devil?” Her dunce of a client looked at her with sincere desperation.

Oh, boy. Linda took a deep, calming breath. “I’m not an animal therapist.”

Session six:

Lucifer paced in her living room while Charlie tugged at Hesperus’ tail. The cat twitched it in agitation before turning to face her child. Linda watched the two warily.

“You said it isn’t appropriate to bring a feline in to your office for a session. Something about protocol.” Lucifer was explaining as Hesperus started to heave.

“Protocol?” As far as she knew, she said nothing of the sort...

“You can’t give therapy to a cat until you’re qualified.” He huffed as he adjusted his cuff links. “Bloody paperwork.” Linda was hardly paying attention to him at this point, as Charlie was starting to advance on the convulsing cat. “So I’m making a home visit while awaiting the confirmation of your credentials.”

A hairball snaked out of the animal’s mouth, and Linda jumped up from her seat to rush over and intercept before her little angel could acquire the vomit which now possessed his full attention.

“Credentials?” She had a bad feeling about this as she scooped up her inquisitive son.

“Yes! So you won’t get in trouble for giving Hesperus the therapy he needs!”

And that brought her back to this moment.

Exhaling, Linda put the letter down and watched the door. Right on cue, Lucifer opened it and brought his charge in, carrier and all. He happily set the bulky thing down and opened it to retrieve the animal, before plopping it upon her abused couch.

“Well, now, all the necessary paperwork’s in order, so you can start working your magic. One hour each week, yes?”

Linda tried to keep her expression as professional as possible. “Lucifer, you really don’t...”

“I know, a proper session needs to remain private. I’ll be with the Detective for the duration of these visits. Call me if you need anything.” And with that, he left.

Linda stared at the cat. It tried to lick itself and fell off the couch. Good grief, it was so dumb. Shrugging, the newly anointed ‘animal therapist’ opened the top drawer of her desk, pulled out her book, and started reading. If Lucifer insisted on wasting money on this, fine. At least now she could get caught up on her reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Lucifer. She’s not that kind of doctor. 😪
> 
> Once again, thank you to Miah_Arthur for the beta.


	3. Living with Hesperus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is really trying. Hesperus is... being trying.

Lucifer couldn’t breathe. He woke up gasping, and as his eyes flew open, absolute darkness took over. This only held his attention for a brief moment however, because in that instant, he was assaulted with a most distressing sensation of fur in his eyes nose and mouth. Letting out a muffled yelp, he sat up so abruptly that the offending feline was veritably thrown off. Hesperus yowled as he soared through the air. Lucifer gasped, coughed, and gagged before deciding that it was simply better not to breathe. 

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, he fumbled from his bed and fell gracelessly with a thud before clambering up to make his way to the bathroom to deal with the horror of cat fur in every orifice, itching and invading in all kinds of new and decidedly un-fun ways. 

After a few minutes of rinsing and scrubbing, Lucifer blinked at the mirror. He opened his mouth and extended his tongue, eyeing the muscle to see if he could locate the hairs which still clung to it when he heard a scratching sound. Hesperus, it seemed, was finally starting to understand the litter box.

Feeling smug about this small victory, he turned to observe the animal as he kicked the clay pebbles far and wide, clearing the box and landing all over the tiles. In his last session, Linda told him about baby steps. This was a step... a baby steps. Progress was progress... right? Lucifer ran his hand through his hair and took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn’t going to lose his temper, he wasn’t...

Hesperus squatted and the smell of fecal matter assaulted the Devil’s nose. Dear Dad! This stench belonged in a Hell loop!

The animal straightened and exited the box, kicking more litter about with each step. 

“Bloody Hell.” Lucifer grumbled as he reluctantly approached. “What’s the point of a litter box if it still...” His words trailed off when he noticed the frustrating feline had missed the litter entirely, and he glared with red eyes at the long steaming snake of a poo sitting on his floor.

Just then, the loo made a flushing sound and Lucifer jumped, not having realized there was someone else present. Then Atlas emerged from behind the wall separating the lavatory from the rest of the room. The cat stepped daintily around the scattered litter, his gaze flitting between Lucifer and the filth desecrating his floor a couple times before he turned his nose up and hurried off, fluffy black tail waving like a flag behind him.

Lucifer huffed, his shoulders going lax in defeat.

Baby steps were for the birds.

***  
forty-seven minutes later:  
***

His brother was sleeping on his side with Atlas snuggled into his arms like one of Beatrice’s plush toys, cozy and relaxed. And as much as he despised cats, Lucifer had to admit, it looked rather nice. And he wanted to be happy for his brother.

He wasn’t.

The Devil stormed out of the room, crossed the penthouse in long strides until he reached the bar, snatched a drink at random, and popped the lid, eager to get something— _anything_ —in his system. But alcohol was insufficient for his current mood, and he started considering the yummy array of drugs he had at his disposal as a viable alternative to sleep. The truth was, he didn’t _want_ to sleep. He didn’t want to wake again with the rotten animal trying to smother and drown him in ratty hair. He was never going to endure that again, even if it meant staying up all night... every night. 

Forever.

He had hoped his twin could keep him company in this venture, but that wasn’t an option. Because Mī had a cat who always behaved like a perfect little angel. Musing over this, Lucifer took a sip and glanced toward Hesperus who was wandering aimlessly toward him. The creature wasn’t perfect, but at least he knew how to think for himself.

“You and I know better, don’t we?” He remarked. “We know there’s more to life than following orders. We would rather be free, even if it means we make mistakes.” He took another sip before grabbing a tumbler and filling it. Hesperus clambered onto a barstool, digging his claws in as he tried to muscle his way up, only to fall off again when he finally reached the top. 

“Even if we fall down. At least we know it was our choice.” Lucifer took another sip. “Even if it would’ve been better if we listened...” He trailed off, eyes wandering to the windows where the city of Los Angeles twinkled in the night, the artificial lights from the various buildings acting as a poor substitute for his stars.

Stars he made... back when he was still an angel in Heaven, loved by his family... before he...

“Even if everyone hates us because of it...”

Hesperus succeeded in climbing onto the barstool, then he turned his attention to the bar itself. Lucifer blinked at the sting of moisture in his eyes. “Even if we hurt those closest to us... and none of it would’ve happened if we were better...”

Lucifer watched the cat as he walked over. “I know you don’t mean to be so... awful...” He took another sip and Hesperus brushed up against his hand, the one holding the tumbler. Horrified by the prospect of getting hair in his drink, the Devil pulled back.

“Bloody Hell, Hesperus! I’m trying to have a heart to heart with you! Why can’t you be a little less... well... _You?!?”_

The cat blinked at him, and Lucifer was instantly distraught over his words. “I mean... I’m not saying you aren’t good... just...” 

Hesperus turned around and rubbed his butt on the bottle, knocking it over and sending it crashing to the floor. Lucifer gaped, but the animal wasn’t done. He brushed against Lucifer’s cheek, snapping him out of his stunned inaction. 

Was the feline trying to be affectionate? If so, he was bloody awful at it! With this thought, he tried to push the animal back, only to find the cat’s posterior shoved right into his face. Mortified, Lucifer jerked back and fell off the stool in a most undignified manner.

“Mrow.” Hesperus commented from on the bar, looking down on him imperiously. Lucifer seethed, and Hesperus knocked the tumbler off, sending it crashing onto the marble. 

***  
Three days later:  
***

It only got worse after that. Hesperus was mad at him. That was the most logical explanation. He had tried to tell the cat to be better. And worse yet, he _meant_ it! He really _did_ wish Hesperus was more like Atlas, and he had tried to tell him to change. He had acted like... like... _Dad!_ Lucifer shuddered at the thought. 

He made sure to relay this information to Dr. Linda, hoping against hope that the therapy would start producing positive results. Soon. He needed to see progress. He needed to know that giving the little vermin a second shot at life would actually matter... that it could make a difference... even if he had messed up by trying to push him. But so far, not only had things not improved, but... well... maybe the animal had an epiphany, and what seemed like regression was actually a step in the right direction? Because...

Because... Damn it all!

The fur-bearing terror seemed to be fond of skittering across the penthouse at random intervals, claws—which never seemed to retract—slipping on the polished floor. He almost always stopped via head collisions.

And because Hesperus also liked to yowl at 3:00 AM, give or take a few minutes. He did it every night. And it was entirely unnerving.

And there was that one time when he came in with a few purchases, and the ridiculous creature got his head stuck in the handle of the bag. The insufferable dullard proceeded to panic. He ran around at high speeds, knocking everything... absolutely EVERYTHING from where it was! Priceless artifacts and treasured mementoes were scattered and broken, and by the time Lucifer tackled the animal, it looked as if a hurricane had visited for tea. The cat’s heart was racing and it was taking wild rabbit breaths as he removed the bag, then the creature proceeded to cling to him, claws digging into his suit, utterly ruining it.

On top of that, the vindictive animal shredded the bath tissues on the regular, tore down the curtains, scratched up his couch, found his way into every cupboard drawer and cabinet to shed hair upon everything, and he always ate his food too quickly, resulting in more vomiting... often on Lucifer’s bed. Or in his shoes.

And worse of all, the insufferable disaster cat decided his suits were for urinating on.

Walking out of the closet, hauling an armload of laundry for the dry cleaners after one such incident, he felt something latch onto his right trouser leg, and glancing down, he saw Hesperus attached to his ankle.

“Let go!” Lucifer barked, pulling his leg up and away, shaking it. The cat tried to let go, but his claws were thoroughly stuck. Lucifer pulled in one direction while Hesperus pulled in another, but his claws were quite unyielding.

Agitated, the sleepy Devil stooped to extract the animal, yawning again as he did so. He hadn’t slept in days. As he tried to detach the claws, Hesperus seemed to misinterpret, because he gripped onto him all the more fiercely. In the end, he gave up, and continued on his path, dragging the parasitic feline along with each step.

Mîchael watched from the kitchen with wide eyes as he nibbled on a cinnamon roll. Trying to act as if everything was fine, Lucifer grinned at his brother. “It seems my magnetic charms affect all manner of creatures. He can’t keep his paws off me.” He joked.

His brother rolled his eyes as he stood and made his way over. Lucifer froze, not sure if he was more interested in saving face or being freed. Mîchael gave him a scrutinizing once over, before kneeling down. “Don’t move.” He advised, and Lucifer felt the claws being carefully unhooked one at a time, until, finally, the creature was free, and he promptly flew into his rescuer’s arms, clinging to him as if he never wanted to be parted from the archangel again. Mī cradled the traitorous cad for a bit before setting the animal down next to Atlas. Then he stood and placed his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

“Sam,” Mī sighed shaking his head. “You need to sleep.”

“I can’t. The bloody animal will assault me, again.” He bemoaned, but his brother took him by the hand, led him to the bed, and took the load of smelly suits from his grasp. 

“Atlas and I will make sure that doesn’t happen.” He promised.

That was all he needed to hear. He collapsed on his bed. The bloody menace could be his brother’s problem for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick art for each chapter.
> 
> This chapter features the “perfect brother” and his “perfect cat.”
> 
> The Devil emoji PJs were given to him in the Price of Freewill.


	4. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something unexpected happens...
> 
> special thanks to Hiricine_Taoist for the beta. ❤️

Chloe was worried about Lucifer. He wasn’t sleeping. He kept showing up to work sporting his ‘homeless magician’ look, and he was always distracted. She had no idea things would get this out of hand when she left the cat with him, and she found herself redoubling her efforts every night to find the animal a permanent home. Because she needed to save her partner. 

“Tell me, what is it you desire.” Lucifer focused his eyes on their suspect and the usual glassy-eyed demeanor came over the man in response, pulling her attention back to the present. “Tell me why you did it? Why did you want the old man gone? What naughty little longing have you been denying yourself?”

“I... I...” Tony Croften smiled faintly as he leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on the table. “I just want to see my son again.” He confessed, and Chloe bit back on a groan.

The man was a primary suspect in the death of a social worker. Tony’s son had been taken by DHS, primarily because of the vic. She had expected him to say something like this, but...

“Did you, now?” Lucifer leered, eyes narrowing.

“Y... yeah, the bastard took him away, and I wasn’t gonna let him...”

“It said on your chart that you hit your child.” The accusation had a deceptively upbeat lilt.

“I would never!” The man started to stand, shoulders squaring and chest puffing forward, but Lucifer pushed him down again.

“Lucifer?” Chloe tried.

“Why did you do it? I understand the child is below average, near-sighted and asthmatic, a chubby under-performer with no hope of connecting with others, but how is he to learn if his own family rejects him?”

“What?” Croften exclaimed, angry for a completely different reason, now.

“Lucifer, enough!” Chloe put more force into her voice as she put her hand on his shoulder, but he just stood up and started pacing.

“He may be the paradigm of poor breeding, and truthfully, you ought not to’ve had a child in the first place—I mean, _look_ at you!”

“How dare...”

“Lucifer! Stop!”

He wasn’t stopping.

“But to punish the poor thing for being made that way when it was clearly not his fault?”

“We’re leaving.” Chloe decided, grabbing her partner by the wrist and roughly yanking him out with an exasperated sigh and a near headache inducing eye roll.

“Detective!” He pouted as she led him from the interrogation room, door closing with a resounding thud upon their exit. “I was in middle of cracking the case.”

“No.” Chloe exhaled and brought her hands to her head, rubbing her temples. “You weren’t. You were projecting... and it’s... it’s not helping.” He looked crestfallen, his blood-shot eyes turning down to study his hands, and her frustration slipped back into concern.

“I...” He faltered, but Chloe shook her head and took his hand.

“How much sleep have you gotten?” She inquired softly.

At this, he perked up, seemingly proud. “Mī kept an eye on Hesperus, so I got a full three hours! I’m good to go!”

Mind made up, she got Dan to finish the interrogation, called Maze to drive his corvette back, and took him home. He whined about it, but she could tell he appreciated her attention and care. Of course, the whole ride back, he wouldn’t stop going on about Hesperus—via projecting the cat’s imagined plight, which was really him working though his own problems—onto the case. He was like a Russian doll of issues.

“The dullard may‘ve decided to turn a new leaf, as it were, but it doesn’t change the fact that he rejected his spawn for being underwhelming! Which, let me tell you, that’s the nice way of putting it. If I didn’t know better, I would think there was something wrong with his head.”

Chloe laughed. The kid in question was fine. But her Devil and his cat...?

“This isn’t funny, Detective! Mental health is important!” He fussed as she pulled into the spot reserved for her in the underground parking. He gave her a pouty huff as he unbuckled and got out.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer, you’re right. It’s just cute, you worrying about Hesperus so much.” She tried diplomatically as she got out and led him toward the elevator.

Her partner’s brow scrunched in confusion. “Hesperus? This isn’t about...” She silenced him with a tender kiss, and he melted into her, disregarding his rant. As they made their way to the elevator and up to the Penthouse, their attention shifted to more pleasant distractions, and Chloe almost forgot her concerns. That is until the doors opened.

“Lucifer?” She gasped pulling back from him to gape at the modifications he made. “What?”

“Hmm?” He nuzzled her neck, trying to recapture her interest. “What was that, love?”

“You’re penthouse!” She stepped out of the elevator and away from him, eyes roaming over the new... architecture.

Seemingly having snapped out of a daze, he followed her out, his demeanor souring. “A cat castle.” He pointed to the corner. “A cat pavilion.” He gestured by the bar. “A cat tree.” He let his long, graceful finger extend along it and up to the tiny bridges and alcoves built into the ceiling. “And I do believe the website called those cat paths... or was it walkways?”

Chloe’s mouth fell open. “You did all this... for...”

“The ungrateful wanker won’t even try them.” He grumbled. “I thought providing him with proper accommodations might pull him out of his depression, but he refuses to acknowledge their existence.” As he spoke, he flopped down onto the piano bench and started plucking out a slow, wistful tune. Chloe wasn’t sure what to say. As she considered the situation and Lucifer continued to play, Atlas emerged from one of the alcoves and rolled onto his back to offer a greeting chirp. 

“Well, at least _someone’s_ enjoying it.” Chloe snorted when Lucifer’s frown deepened. “Where’s Hesperus?”

Lucifer stopped playing, suddenly confused. “Come to think...” 

Just then, Michael came from the bathroom, a worried frown turning his lips downward. He was carrying scissors, a comb, a partially used bottle of cat shampoo, and he was covered in ratty white fur. The Devil and the Detective stared at the Archangel, and he in turn, brightened at the sight of them. 

“Sam! Detective Chloe!”

Lucifer chuckled. “What were you doing in there? Giving him a poodle cut?”

Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A what?” Then he shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not important. I found something on Hesperus I think you should see.”

***

Standing in the bathroom, Lucifer couldn’t take his eyes off Hesperus. And to think, he thought the animal was ridiculous looking before. “Bloody Hell! You really _did_ give him a poodle cut!”

“Lion cut. That’s what the human on the communication device called it.” His brother corrected, gesturing with his comb wielding hand toward his phone, while trying to brush fur from his trousers with the other. “She said it’s the best option when fur gets too matted.”

The Detective picked up the phone curiously and started to giggle. “Did you watch a YouTube video?”

Lucifer approached the cantankerous creature and his eyes started to water. Before he knew it, he was leaning on the sink counter for support as he howled with laughter. “You’ve turned him into an ugly hipster!” He guffawed.

“I didn’t turn him into anything.” Mī scoffed, arms crossing. “But... I fear someone else may have.” 

“What?” Lucifer snickered.

“Look.” Mîchael pointed at the cat.

While the amused Devil rubbed his eyes to rid himself of tears, the Detective walked over to gawk at the absurd-looking animal. “Did someone tattoo him?” She exclaimed, after picking him up. She was looking intently at his chest.

Lucifer peered over her shoulder to see something resembling a red tattoo. It was a circle with five archaic symbols in it, one at each of what would be the four corners of a square, and one in the center... 

That was no tattoo.

“I wonder if he really _is_ a Gremlin...” Mī mused, and Chloe gaped disbelievingly at him, nearly dropping the scrawny, mostly naked feline in the process.

Stealing himself, Lucifer asked the Detective to turn the animal toward him. She did, but the cranky cat kicked and squirmed, causing her to twist and contort in an attempt to keep him still, then Lucifer placed a hand on the feline’s abdomen, and closing his eyes, he drew upon a power he rarely used on Earth.

 _“Ipsum revelare!”_ He commanded, his voice taking on a polytonal quality. Then he jumped back, unsure of what to expect. A blaze of light flashed outward and Hesperus started yowling, but the only thing to change was that words replaced the symbols. Startled, Chloe dropped the cat, and he dashed away, but Mîchael plucked him up by the doorway and cradled him close, whispering softly in their native tongue, which seemed to calm the little monster.

“There, there,” He hushed, returning to English. “Why don’t we take a quick look at that nasty spell?”

Hesperus blinked dumbly at him, but he allowed himself to be repositioned. The Detective and Lucifer cautiously approached, and as they looked again, they saw English lettering. 

“Ah, a newer spell, then... or hex... or curse...?” Lucifer was still musing over this when his twin started reading. 

“Pallid hide, and twisted spine,  
Thy mold shall thus transform.  
Vision crossed, thy grace be lost,  
A beastly wretched form.  
Witless and small, unloved by all,  
Thy pride goeth before the Fall.”

As he recited the magic words, Hesperus hissed, and feeling somehow betrayed and cheated, Lucifer lurched back in alarm. He really _wasn’t_ a cat?! But... that meant it was all a lie. None of it was real? 

_No!_ He pushed those treacherous thoughts aside. This was _good._ He could finally be free of the wretched creature.

“What was the phrase for fixing transformations, again?” His twin wondered. “Something like, ‘thy grace, I now restore?’” 

“And me without a proper wizard hat.” Lucifer joked, squaring his shoulders.

“Um...” The Detective was starting to back up, worrying her lip as she did so. “Should we maybe get out of the bathroom?”

 _“Restitutio Gratia!”_ Lucifer invoked, and in an instant, his world turned upside down. 

A blast of divine energy shot out from the animal and all three of them were thrown back. Chloe was thrown against the wall, Mī was blasted clear out of the room, and Lucifer—unfortunately still vulnerable—crashed headfirst into the loo. White flashed across his vision and he blanked out, until he was roused by a yellowish hue and the discombobulated flapping of... 

“Why duz Zorro h’ve wingz?” He heard Chloe slurring through the thickness in his head. 

Sitting up far too quickly and immediately regretting it when his head started pounding, he saw a most unwelcome sight.

“No, not Z’rro. more’ve a Ricky M’rtin?” 

The Detective was slumped against the wall, one hand on her head as she tried to focus on the naked interloper who had just wrecked Lucifer’s counter, scattering his daily grooming paraphernalia all across the floor. Soft grey—Lucifer refused to call them silver—wings, with black and gold tips fluttered as his brother struggled to stand. He shook his head in confusion, which caused the tufts of curly pompoms atop his head and at the nape of his neck—remnants of Mī’s haircut, it seemed—to bob ridiculously. Served the lying mingebag right. Feeling his rage mounting, Lucifer staggered upright and advanced.

“Gabriel!” he snarled as he brought his fist full-force into his deceitful brother’s face.

***

The punch came out of nowhere. One minute he was trapped in that infernal cat body and the next, his brother’s fist was connecting with his jaw.

Gabriel’s head crashed against the tile behind him, cracking it, and he saw stars. Legitimate flashes of light danced across his vision, and some snarky part of his brain somehow had the sense to quip... ‘oh, the _real_ reason he’s called the Lightbringer.’

Lucifer glared with Hellfire eyes as he yelled. Why was he yelling? Oh, right. Because that’s what Lucifer did. He caused discord everywhere he went. The disoriented angel attempted to stand, but his legs buckled and he collapsed back against the wall. Flustered, he shook his head, trying to clear it as his sibling continued to holler at him. Then Mîchael was there, placing a hand on the Devil’s shoulder and saying... something...?

“...not.. intention... cat...”

Gabriel blinked and staggered to his feet, and though his head was swimming, he was more successful this time. Taking a breath, he opened his mouth, ready to explain himself. Or tell Lucifer off. Maybe threaten or tease him.

“Dwelmop.”

Dear Father! What was _that?_

A human woman he felt he should recognize started to giggle. Insulted, he puffed his wings and moved to tell her off, but then he stumbled, and his plans changed. Running wasn’t his style, but maybe just this once?

As he rushed out, he spotting an opening. The balcony and the sky beyond called to him. _Home_ called to him. He made quick work of crossing the Devil’s layer, spreading his wings to fly as he did so. Then with a downward thrust, he clumsily lifted from the floor, and...

THUD!

Bewildered, he slid down the smooth surface, and that same traitorous voice in his head turned on him. ‘What are you, a bird? Did you _seriously_ forget about glass?’ It teased. As he fell flat on his back, he could hear The Adversary roaring with laugher at his expense.

Angrily, he clambered to his feet, shot Lucifer a withering scowl, opened the sliding glass door, and flew off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so yes, if you go back and read, you will see the subtle hints.
> 
> This plot twist was my husband’s evil idea.  
> 😂😂😂
> 
> And maybe I should try to avoid too many plot twists in my stories before you all start expecting the unexpected from me.
> 
> Also, kudos to feartheviolas for the window crashing gag suggestion. 😘


	5. Being Hesperus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you guys deserve an explanation.
> 
> And resolution.
> 
> Special thanks to Hiricine_Taoist for the amazing beta

***  
Three months ago, Earth time:

***

Gabriel returned to the ruined library near the center of the Silver City. It was still a mess, but reconstruction was finally underway. Sighing, the Messenger and Stand-In Commander made his way past the working angels toward the relatively undamaged catalogues with a heavy heart and single-minded focus. 

He had a mystery to solve. 

Grumbling, he scanned the little drawers until he found the section he needed, and when he pulled one of the drawers open, he was greeted by a selection of cards, each containing the basic information needed to locate and identify books. Books which were destroyed. 

Unlike most of the others, Gabriel visited Earth frequently. He knew there was a better way; that the Dewey Decimal System was not only tedious, but completely outdated. On Earth, it would’ve been a simple matter of typing in a few search words, and voila! He desperately wished for this luxury now. But, alas, Duma was old-school, so with an eye roll, he started his search.

If he could find out what kind of information the destroyed tomes held, maybe he could piece together why Uriel had wanted them gone. As he thumbed through the cards, a picture of what exactly had been blown up started to form. The epicenter of the blast had been where books on higher celestial influencers—specifically those connected to what Father called the Uncertainty Principle—had been stored.

Gabriel had a headache.

He desperately wished Mī was with him. His brother actually understood this stuff. Maybe, if only Gabriel hadn’t wasted so much of his early existence running around with Samael, he wouldn’t be so confused now.

 _“There’s more to life than gossip, music, mischief, and combat!” Mîchael reprimanded him. “You can’t keep sneaking off with Sammy every time you get bored!”_

A pang of loneliness hit at the memory. Life had been simple. Everything made sense...

Stupid Lucifer messing everything up. 

Gabriel pushed the annoying thought aside. He needed to focus. Looking at another card, he raised an eyebrow. The Basanos? He’d forgot about that mistake. But they were locked up in a chest, so it hardly mattered. The next title he pulled up was, “Theories about the Four Horsemen.” Human superstition, more like. Gabriel rolled his eyes. He found several books about Lucifer. That traitor got far too much attention. He continued through the cards, stopping on one about himself. “The Hornblower.” He giggled at the lewd jokes he could be making. Mîchael’s card was interesting. “Singularity.” It had his symbol on it.

As he pondered the odd title, he noticed one card near the back, put in at an odd angle. It appeared to have a subtle glow to it. Intrigued, he pulled the drawer out further and snatched up the card. 

And instantly regretted it.

Light flashed. Uriel’s voice filled his head. _“Gabby, Gabby, Gabby, you’re so predictable. Consider this payback for all those pranks you used to pull.”_ The disembodied voice chanted a spell. The words wove around him, and everything grew large and blurry. His wings vanished, and next he knew, he spiraled through the air. Flying? No!

_Falling!_

He was _Falling!_ And he had no wings! Was he being cast from Heaven? Was he to join Lucifer in exile?!? He wanted to scream, but the sound that came from his mouth was strange... animalistic. He hardly cared. He was Falling from Heaven! He was...

The ground met him with an unwelcome impact and his world went black.

***  
Some time later:

***

The aged human who found him was nice. Being stuck as a cat was not. Finally finding a mirror and realizing he was hideous? He did _not_ regret biting everyone who tried to approach him that day!

The worst thing about being trapped in a feline body was the inadequate brain that came with it. Every time he tried to power through the squirrel on a wheel that had become his mind, he ended up staring at the wall like a fool! But when he let it do its thing, he would still make a complete pendejo of himself.

For a time, his life was a blur. Literally. His vision was mierda. He was vaguely aware of the presence of other cats, and the human fussing with him on occasion, but mostly he just existed. That all changed the day he found the Devil looking at him with horrified intrigue.

Everything became a whirlwind after that, as one by one, all the cats vanished. He didn’t want to admit it, but it worried him. Where were they going? Were they being killed? Could _he_ be killed as a cat? What would happen to his soul? The prospect of being trapped as a disembodied cat soul for all eternity was more then he could bear.

Then one day he was being extracted from his cell by a small human. “I heard one person call him _beastly.”_ She was saying. Feeling indignant over the insult, he dug his claws in. He may have looked like an ugly cat, but he was Gabriel, The Messenger and Hero of...

Lucifer was looking at him again! 

What?

“A second chance for the beast...” The Devil mused. And that was when Gabriel finally understood.

Father was using him to give that good-for-nothing selfish has-been a second chance. It was a test. Was the prideful Fallen One capable of caring about someone other than himself?

Gabriel stuck out his tongue. This was an exercise in futility. And a humiliating one at that. Lucifer may have opened his home to Mī, but that was out of selfishness. But who was he to question Father’s will? Accepting his fate, Gabriel vowed to do his duty.

He would endure this trial. He would do what must be done.

After a short time, Gabriel determined a few things. 

One: He had been named, “Hesperus.”

Two: there was another cat. This cat was the pinnacle of feline perfection, which meant it was obviously Mîchael’s. 

Three: Mī was unaware of the situation and his identity. 

Four: The Devil was a sadistic creature who delighted in torturing him with a red light he knew was uncatchable. He would not satisfy his brother by trying. 

Five: Lucifer never stopped talking about himself. 

The selfish Devil even found a human servant to tend to Gabriel so he could run away from his responsibilities rather than face the trial set forth for him by Father. The blonde, bespectacled human was pleasant, however. She never pushed or invaded his space, and he used the time to practice moving as a cat. He was grateful for the reprieve, but it didn’t change the fact that his brother needed to be punished for his insolence. 

If Lucifer was to be redeemed, he needed to learn to respect Father’s command.

It took some ingenuity, but between laying on his face, urinating and defecating in unwanted places, breaking things, making a ruckus at night, clawing up furniture, and taking down curtains, he found a way. And Gabriel was pleased to find it worked. The humbled Devil was very apologetic, going so far as to buy all kinds of ridiculous contraptions for him.

But Gabriel couldn’t be bought.

He refused to touch the gifts. And Lucifer was properly chastised.

It wasn’t all good, however. There was one time when he got his head stuck in a bag. And in spite of his expectations, his brother saved him from an untimely demise. His cat brain also had a bad habit of kicking in at inappropriate moments, causing him to act in wildly distressing ways. Shoving his posterior in his brother’s face, for example? Gabriel just wanted to put that incident behind him and never think on it again. Ever. And he kept getting his claws stuck. Because he had no clue how to retract them. 

Which was how he found himself attached to the Devil’s leg, desperately wishing he wasn’t. But then Mîchael was there. Wonderful, perfect, saintly Mī tenderly unhooked his claws. With The Adversary gone, Mîchael showered him with care. He was so grateful, he didn’t mind when the Golden Angel trimmed the fur. He just wanted him to stay. He was lonely, and testing Lucifer was exhausting, and it just felt nice to be appreciated. 

But then his Mī was upset about something, and Lucifer was back, and he was being roughly handled, and someone was reciting that hateful incantation, and everything changed. Again.

***  
After leaving the Earthly Plane:

***

Gabriel crashed into his rooms unceremoniously, and for a time, all he did was lay there. The final remnants of cat thought faded as the light of Heaven healed his jaw. He finally felt like himself. Unfortunately, with that came a new-found horror over his actions. He did not like felines, and his stint trapped as one made that dislike all the more palpable. Eager to move past the whole debacle, he clambered to his feet and found a mirror.

He needed to solidify who and what he was in his mind, but the reflection staring back at him blinked disbelievingly as his hand flew to his head to confirm the close shave. And the pompoms of curls at the top and bottom. 

Groaning, he marched over to his closet. All he wanted to do was don his celestial robes, something befitting his station, but those would do nothing to conceal this humiliation. Sighing, he snatched a pair of jeans, a hoody, and for good measure, a beanie. Throwing them on, he returned to confirm that they effectively hid the atrocious haircut.

The others would ask questions. But he wasn’t beholden to them. He could find a professional to make sense of the cut, and his hair would grow back. Gabriel sighed as he eyed his attire. He felt out of place dressed like this, and it just made him miss Earth.

“Did you enjoy the time you got to spend with your favorite brothers?” 

Gabriel whirled around in alarm. “Father?!”

God was leaning on a pillar and shaking His head in amusement as He crossed His arms. “That I am.”

Gabriel was confused. Again. He was tired of being confused. “I... What?”

His Father chuckled. “What, indeed. What are you still doing here, when you clearly want to be down there?”

Gabriel blinked, unable to form words, and just like that, God was gone. The flustered angel stood in silence for a moment more, until, mind made up, he spread his wings and left.

***  
Back on Earth:

***

Atlas was not pleased. The cat dodged as another cat pathway came crashing down. Lucifer didn’t care. Atlas wasn’t _his_ cat, Atlas would manage just fine. Angrily, he tore another fixture from the ceiling and added it to the pile. Mîchael’s cat glared at him. Bloody selfish feline!

Lucifer hated cats. 

He was _glad_ Hesperus left! Good riddance! The fact that it had all been a ruse, a sham, a con... The Devil needed a drink. He randomly snatched a bottle of whisky from the bar and sank onto a stool.

The Detective had left to explain to the Urchin that Hesperus was in Heaven, and his shell-shocked twin had holed himself up in his room. For all intents and purposes, Lucifer was alone. Which, fine! Good. He was finally free.

Atlas’ paw swatted him and he turned to see the animal staring him down. In no mood to humor anyone—let alone a bloody feline—Lucifer flashed his eyes. But the stubborn animal didn’t run. Instead, the furious creature got up, turned, and knocked the bottle over the edge of the bar.

“Mrow.”

He should’ve been furious, but in that moment a ridiculous feeling of longing overpowered him, and he couldn’t help himself. He snatched up the fur-riddled nuisance and hugged him, like the dolt he apparently was. He’d been _played._ None of it was real. But he still missed the vile thing. And...

The sound of wings caught his attention, and turning, he saw Gabriel standing on the balcony in a hoody and a beanie, hands in pockets, and a haughty scowl on his face. 

“Oh, hello Hesperus,” he sneered as his estranged brother let himself in. “Come to shove your arse in my face, again?” 

Gabriel smirked at him, head cocking slightly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” he teased scornfully. Lucifer snorted as Atlas broke from his hold and scampered off. 

“That joke is in poor taste,” the Devil retorted, taking a generous gulp. “And you know it.”

His brother shrugged. “I know your lack of aversion was in poor taste. Appalling, really.” He made a mock horrified expression.

“No, your behavior was.” An idea came to him. “It was A- _paw_ -ing.” He took a pleased sip, and Gabriel actually chuckled at the pun.

“This whole mess was a- _paw_ -ing.”

They both snickered, feeling strangely nostalgic before coming to their senses, and reverting back to glaring at one another. “What do you want?” Lucifer demanded icily, just wanting his brother to leave. 

Gabriel stopped in his tracks and looked at the floor, all the bravado he’d been boasting a second ago melted away. “To, um,”—he stared at his toes—“thank you,” he muttered, cringing at the words. It looked painful, and Lucifer’s anger faded a bit, that same uncomfortable ache settling into its place. 

“Even though you don’t deserve it,” Gabriel added, turning a sharp glare on him, and the feeling passed.

“Oh, _I_ don’t deserve it?” Lucifer snapped, advancing. Gabriel stood his ground. _“You_ were the one raising Hell, not me!” the Devil reminded harshly, as he jabbed an accusing finger at him.

“You deserved it. And I’m not sorry!” The messenger retorted, fists clenching.

Falling back a step, Lucifer shook his head disbelievingly. “Bloody Hell! Worst gratitude ever. You can have it back,” he growled, turning his back. He wanted that to be the end of it, but... Swallowing a lump, Lucifer felt his shoulders sag. He didn’t want to admit to the lying knobhead that his scorn hurt as much as it did, but he couldn’t leave it at that. “Really, Gabriel, why do you _insist_ on hating me so much? You’d think I’ve personally offended you.” He forced those words out through gritted teach, refusing to let the longing he felt sneak into his voice.

“You _do_ offend me.” 

“Why?” Lucifer turned on him again. Gabriel was still looking at him with rage. “What’ve I ever done to you that was so unforgivable?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened for a moment, before his features grew steely once again. “You left!” he yelled.

“Oh? In case you forgot, I didn’t leave, I was thrown out.” How dare he accuse him like that?!?

“No. You knew what would happen if you rebelled.” His brother countered, fist clenching. “Mī told you. I did too!” His voice cracked, and his expression shifted. Was that pain? “The moment you decided to do it anyway, that was the moment you left us!” 

Lucifer stared as his brother’s anger fell away, drowned out by the gleaming of tears in his eyes. Gabriel blinked and shook his head. “And as if that wasn’t enough, Mī had to be the one to take you down and cast you out! You have no idea what that did to him!” 

Lucifer couldn’t quite believe what he saw. “To him?” he asked, understanding finally settling in.

“He wasn’t the same after that.” Gabriel blinked again, stubbornly refusing the tears. “It wasn’t bad enough, I lost you. No, you went and took him away, too! Because you left!” Shaking his head, the conflicted angel sank onto the couch.

“I...” Lucifer didn’t know what to say.

“You left...” He looked at his hands. “You... left.” 

Feeling like a sucker, Lucifer walked back to the bar and snatched a bottle, then, popping the lid, he came back to offer it. “Here.”

Gabriel startled, eyes landing dubiously on the bottle. Tentatively, he took it. “Tequila?” 

Lucifer shrugged, sitting next to him. “It’s your favorite.”

For a while, neither said anything. They just drank. Lucifer thought he might’ve spotted Mîchael slipping back into his room, and he sighed. Some Devil he was. Letting one angel bunk with him, and trying to make peace with another?

“Thank you,” Gabriel finally said, far more sincerely this time, and Lucifer smiled uncertainly back. Then his brother snorted. “You... um... think you could do me a tiny favor, though?”

“Really?” Had he heard right? _“You_ want a favor from the Devil?” Gabe shrugged, and Lucifer chuckled. He wasn’t sure he wanted to, but... he was curious. “Alight, I’m game. What is it you desire?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, then he pulled back his hood and removed the hat, revealing the absurd haircut he was still sporting, and Lucifer suppressed a snicker. “Never let Mī get ahold of scissors again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you following the series, lots of foreshadowing of things to come in the first part. 😉
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed the story. ❤️😹
> 
> Wilfred Warrior is a real cat and the inspiration for Hesperus. Much love to him.


End file.
